


and they call it bella notte

by akaparalian



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse, Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, I'm a huge sap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaparalian/pseuds/akaparalian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is probably the most ridiculous thing we’ve ever done,” Tim says, and Kon can’t really argue with that, so he just laughs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and they call it bella notte

**Author's Note:**

> You know who’s a five-year-old with a sweet tooth a mile wide who just wants to write TimKon fluff all the time and just have them be as happy as possible? _Me. I am that five year old._ Title from “Bella Notte”, which is from Lady and the Tramp, and which has been stuck in my head for like a week? Oops. May have something to do with where this fic came from. Or maybe I’m just crazy. You decide.

 “This is probably the most ridiculous thing we’ve ever done,” Tim says, and Kon can’t really argue with that, so he just laughs. They’re hovering high above Gotham – hopefully high enough that Daddy Bats a) won’t notice and b) won’t be interesting in getting out the jet to come collect his wayward ward – and Tim’s wrapped up pretty tightly in the jacket he’d grabbed when Kon had showed up outside his window with the sort of grin on his face that definitely spoke to a stupid idea.

“Shut up and dance, Wonder Boy,” Kon teases, putting one earbud in his ear and one in Tim’s, and Tim heaves a put-upon sigh (completely negated by his grin) and places his hands – one on Kon’s shoulder, one in his hand. “You lead,” he says, and Kon nods and steps forward.

He’s relatively certain this isn’t an actual dance, just a sort of scrambled-up mixture of the few things he actually knows about ballroom dancing, and when he says so Tim laughs and agrees, “It’s kind of a waltz. Kind of.” Kon chuckles and shrugs, then puts more energy into it, twirling Tim out and then in against his chest on a whim. Tim laughs a little breathlessly, and yeah, Kon’s maybe feeling the breathless thing too. Sure, he flies _all the time_ , but there’s a difference between flying and dancing with your boyfriend above one of the largest cities in the country, which, despite its gloomy overtone, does the twinkling-city-lights thing pretty well.

“So, like I said, ridiculous,” Tim laughs when they spin to a stop, the playlist Kon’s maybe sort of kind of been working on for at least a week exhausting itself as the last song fades into silence. They stand still for a moment, and do that looking-happily-at-each-other thing that makes Bart retch dramatically every time he sees it.

“You love it,” Kon retorts, breaking the stillness and gently popping the earbuds out of their ears, one arm curled tightly around Tim’s waist and one shoving the earbuds into his back pocket.

“Never said I didn’t,” Tim says with a chuckle, and Kon ducks in to kiss him lightly, grinning when Tim laughs against his lips. “You,” Tim adds when he pulls away, “are the sappiest human in existence. And I say that as someone who lives and works in close proximity with Dick Grayson.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kon says, even as he pulls Tim tighter to his chest and begins their descent back down to Tim’s windowsill.

“Sure,” Tim snorts. “Don’t pretend I don’t know you’ve been planning this for like a month. I’ve got your number, Clone Boy.”

“Have you ever not?” Kon laughs, slowing as they pull up to Tim’s apartment. “This your stop?” he says, leaning against the side of the building and sliding the window open with his TTK, evading all of Tim’s various mechanical traps and alarms with ease made from much practice. Tim inclines his head mock-graciously, slipping out of Kon’s grasp and through the window in one easy motion.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” he says in his best High Society Gothamite voice, bowing and looking up at Kon through his eyelashes. Kon rolls his eyes fondly, bowing back and imitating Tim’s tone as best he can. “It was my pleasure. I do hope we can do it again sometime.”

“I’m sure we will,” Tim says with a smile, his normal Tim voice back, and then more softly, “Goodnight, Kon.”

“Night, Rob,” Kon says, leaning in the window just far enough to sneak a goodnight kiss before soaring out backwards. Tim shuts the window and smiles and waves, and Kon makes his fingers into a heart (he will take to his grave the fact that Cassie had to teach him how to do that) and blows him a kiss. Tim laughs – he can hear it even through the Bat-soundproofing throughout that entire apartment. And as he starts his victory lap of Gotham before heading back to Smallville, Kon can only think that he’s, okay, maybe he’s a huge sap, but he’s also a huge,ridiculously lucky sap with the most ridiculously awesome boyfriend of all time, so that’s probably okay.


End file.
